Alone in the Garage
by shipwreck-stars
Summary: In a vulnerable moment, Morty spills what he's been going through to Rick, but he already knows.


"S-s-start diggin', Morty." Rick said, elbowing the kid in the ribs. The gruff voice of his grandpa was a smear of incoherent words to Morty's ears. He stood there, knuckles white from gripping the shovel.

His eyes were wide saucers and his mouth was in a taut line. Morty stared down at the corpse mangled in front of him.

His corpse. Morty blinked, but it was no mirage or hallucination. The distant sound of a shovel clanging and digging echoed. Morty stuck the tip of the shovel into the soft earth with a squish, and began digging.

Rick's eyelids drooped into a tired expression. He edged his corpse close to the grave and kicked it; it rolled over and fell into the shallow hole with a soft thud.

Mimicking his grandpa, Morty pushed his remains into his own grave. Rick filled his hole, shaking the loose dirt over the remains.

When they finished the job, Rick stalked back to the house. Morty drifted right behind his grandpa. His parents paid no mind to their ghost of a son as he passed by.

They were arguing about something. But all Morty got out of it were unintelligible grunts and heavy breathing. Rick simply ripped open the fridge and grabbed a can.

Morty moved mechanically into the living room, joining that dimension's Summer on the couch. She barely noticed him, bored expression glued to her phone. Rick sprawled himself on the couch and cracked open his can.

Unfazed. Uncaring.

Morty sat there like a statue, wedged between Summer and his grandpa. He felt dead.

_I am dead_.

_The smell of burnt flesh and blood hung in the air._

_He could smell it. It flooded his nostrils and clawed down his throat. Morty gagged and tried to cover his nose, but he couldn't move._

_Icy panic seized him. Where was he? Why couldn't he move? Morty flicked his eyes back and forth, trying to see where he was._

_He was on the ground, lying on his back. A foot suddenly connected to his side and pain exploded in his ribs. Morty gasped and blinked, his eyes watering from the pain. The foot crashed into his side again, with much more force. Morty rolled like a rag doll and fell into a hole._

_Above him, materialized something awful. It was blood-soaked and mangled, looming over him. An eye swung from a veiny strand and its grey skin hung in shredded ribbons, exposing the white of bone._

_The remains of a yellow shirt clung to the thing's body. _

_The thing was him. _

_"__**G-g-get a-way from me!" **__Morty shrieked._

_His corpse grinned, revealing bloated gums squirming with maggots. It grabbed a shovel and started to fill the hole with dirt._

_Morty screamed and cried, struggling in the earth. His limbs were pinned to the ground._

_Dirt started to pile upon him. __**He was being buried alive. **_

_Morty tried to open his mouth to scream, but the dirt fell into his mouth and silenced his cries. A small opening let Morty see himself. The thing smiled wide as it heaved a pile of earth over the grave._

_Morty screamed silently as his world was blacked out. Darkness. _

-o! N-n-no!" Morty choked out as he flailed his limbs. Morty opened his eyes and blinked, sitting suddenly upright in his bed.

He wasn't in the ground. A corpse wasn't hovering above him. He was in his room. Morty gave a shuddery sigh as he tried to calm his thundering heart.

It wasn't the first time his nightmares woke him. For the past two weeks, nightmares had kept him from sleep. Terrifying images of him being buried alive by his own corpse, of him being violated in terrible ways and many others.

A gross smell filled Morty's nose. He felt soaking wet. _Oh God..._ Morty felt bile rise up in his throat, and he forced it back down.

He had pissed the bed.

Holding his nose, Morty pulled back the covers and looked at the mess. A large dark yellow ring had just formed, staining his sheets and blankets.

_Shit_.

This was the first time something like this had happened. Morty cringed as he peeled off his soiled pajamas and stripped his bed. As quietly as he could, Morty crept down the stairs.

The last thing he needed was to wake his parents and sister. Or worse, Rick. Thinking about his grandpa made Morty's stomach flip-flop.

He slipped into the garage and quickly threw his balled up laundry into the wash. Morty chewed on a nail as the washing machine clunked, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure he was alone.

"W-w-what the hell are y-you doing in my garage?"

Morty practically jumped out of his skin. Morty whirled on a heel and saw Rick standing in the doorway leading to the garage. Along with his usual lab coat, Rick wore black boxers embroidered with flying saucers.

"N-nothing!" Morty stuttered out, shaking his hands. Rick rolled his eyes and walked into the garage. He crossed his arms and eyed the running washer.

"N-n-OTHEeurrghING?" Rick burped. The kid was sweaty and was standing in only his underwear and socks.

"There a reason you decided to do laundry at 2 am?" Rick asked, gesturing to the washer. Morty racked his mind for a good excuse.

"I-I uh forgot to wash my gym clothes!" Morty chattered quickly. Rick's frown deepened and he quirked his brow.

"Riiiiight. S-s-so you just felt like washing your non-existent gym clothes? At 2 am. In your underwear. That the best half-assed excuse your p-p-prepubescent brain can come up with?"

Morty shrank under his grandpa's words. What was the use in denying it? _It's not like he'd care..._

"Whaddya do, h-have a wet dream? For Christ's sake MOUGghhurrpty, d-d-don't tell me you dragged your jizzy sheets into my garage."

"No! I had...an accident." Morty admitted, cheeks burning.

"Oh."

For a moment, Morty thought he'd get a little sympathy or understanding, even from Rick. He should've known better. Rick started to laugh.

"Y-you seriously pissed the bed, Morty?" Rick laughed. Morty felt his face grow hotter and tears began to sting his eyes. Embarrassment bubbled up in his chest and his started to tremble.

"I-I-It isn't f-funny Rick!" Morty snapped, his voice raising. Rick snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on-"

"_D-d-do you even know what I-I've gone through these p-past two weeks!" _Morty cried, tears streaming down his face.

Rick stiffened at his grandson's outburst. He was used to the constant whining from his grandson, but not this. He had a feeling what Morty was going to spill.

"I've had nightmares, Rick. Everyday. I-I can't close my eyes without seeing my own _dead body _and other things..."

Rick knew this. Well, he had an inkling about the nightmares. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

"I-I know Morty." Morty blinked his watery eyes.

"W-what?"

"Did I stutter? I said I knoOUUeew. It's n-not hard to notice when someone's not sleeping. You've been walkin' around, looking like a goddamn zombie. P-p-pretty easy to spot."

Morty wiped at his eyes and sniffled.

"Mom and Dad never noticed..." A sour taste bloomed in the back of Rick's throat, and it wasn't the beginning of a burp. _Poor pathetic kid, _Rick couldn't help but think. _It's my fault he's like this...damn. _Rick swallowed hard and placed a hand on his grandson's shoulder.

"L-listen Morty, you can get t-through this. I know you can." He said, trying to convince his frazzled mess of a grandson. And himself. Morty's look hardened and he swatted Rick's hand away.

"E-e-easy for you to say Rick. You don't give a crap about anything. You _knew_ I was struggling and j-just sat by, like everybody else. Just go." Morty spat. His words rang true, but Rick cringed slightly anyway.

_You don't care about anyone but yourself, _Morty thought. Morty pinned Rick with a glare and trudged to the washer. He took out the wet bedspread and pajamas and shoved them into the drier.

Rick left silently. Morty sank to the cold garage floor and drew his knees up to his chin. He rested his back against the running dryer, feeling the vibrations. Tears welled up in his eyes again, but he didn't blink them away.

He sat there alone in the garage, the thrumming of the dryer filling his ears.


End file.
